confession of a cab driver (pt 1)

I woke up late on Sunday morning; it was 2:30 and I was planning on arriving at this time. I weighed my options and thought about the traffic accumulations, which would occur past 3pm, and then I built up enough courage to brush my teeth and walk to the subway. I would still make it to the garage in time to receive a cab at 3:30am, right before the bars closed.

The shift went smoothly. Should I even say that I felt something just wasn’t right when I woke up that morning, or would that just be for dramatic effect? I put on a “lucky” bracelet just in case, or so I thought. Sometimes we need anything to cling to, to feel more complete on our less whole days. And for more dramatic effect, but perhaps this is based somewhat in fact as well: When a day goes so good, it feels as though the overload of energy is bound to collapse and destroy all investment, all that was good at the start. When one 5-dollar ride after another donates to my cause, along with some higher fares here and there, it becomes hard to know when I need to take a chill pill and sip on a coffee.